Time To Go

Writers: AL, Jane
Date Posted: 27th January 2010

Characters: Zandreu, Rayla
Description: Zandreu talks to one of the Tavern's regular patrons.
Location: Vintner Hall
Date: month 7, day 6 of Turn 5

The night was nearly over for the staff. Many had already slipped away into the cold darkness that was well established shortly after the middle of the night. The last of the bar staff and kitchen staff were rustling around and Zandreu was opening the door to the tentative knock that came this time on the night before the restday even sevenday.

The same woman, collecting the same drunk husband.

Except this time he was going to say something to her other than asking her if she could manage him alone.

"Merlit." There was no reason to go into detail. Rayla had been there so often that the Tavern Master knew her by site. Her eyes flicked past him to rest upon the man who slumped over a table. "I'm sorry I'm so late in coming. I had to find someone to watch the children." Aioli would have been there in a moment, but she was visiting her sister who had just given birth. It had taken time for Rayla to find someone else. The woman sighed and slipped into the Tavern. It was warm in there, but she still clutched at her cloak with one hand, as if gathering courage to drag the man through the cold to the small cot they shared. "I hope he didn't cause any trouble."

"Apart from ending up asleep here and dragging you away from your children -" and spending all his time at the tavern when he should be with his family, "- he never causes trouble. But he won't change, you know. Not if you keep rounding him up and getting him back to bed and off to work in the morning." Not tomorrow, of course, because that was a rest day. And no doubt the man functioned markedly better than most after a night's heavy drinking. That was the way of the serious drunks.

Rayla opened her mouth more in surprise than anything. Zandreu had never said a word in regards to the situation with her husband. She closed her mouth only to open it and finally speak, but nothing came out. Finally she just shook her head and walked past Zandreu. He was a fine one to talk - he didn't have to deal with a drunk husband. "Merlit." Rayla always tried to rouse him. On the rare occasion he half woke and could help stumble back to their cot. That time, however, her brisk shakes and calls of his name did nothing but make him snore louder.

"Leave him for moment," the Tavern Master advised. "And come and have some klah."

Rayla's gaze darted to Zandreu and she frowned. "I really shouldn't."

"It won't make any difference to him," Zandreu pointed out mildly. If she didn't want to talk then she didn't; he knew better than most how loyal many wives were in such situations.

Rayla opened her mouth then shut it. She looked down at her husband, then sighed. Maybe she should take some time to simply relax before she had to drag him home. "A cup of klah sounds wonderful."

"It's in the kitchen. I'll just get it." There was no way he would hold back the staff for this. "Just perch up at the bar there. You'll see if he stirs." But they would be out of earshot of the man. There was nothing as cunning and as likely to use anything to his own advantage as a committed drunk.

The woman nodded and shuffled over to a stool where she climbed and then leaned against the bar. It was then Rayla sagged, one hand holding up her head and her eyes closing as she tried to fight the headache that had started to pound behind her temples. So many nights the same thing and so much effort spent to keep their family together. It wasn't getting easier.

When Zandreu came back he didn't speak, just poured the klah from the pitcher and placed it in front of the woman and settled on a stool on the other side of the bar. He could wait; she would talk if she wanted to.

"Thank you." The words were whispered, but there was no other sound in the Tavern to drown them out save for a bit of snoring on the part of her husband. The woman took a sip and her shoulders seemed to droop further as soon as she did. "You're very kind." She added after a moment, though she refused to meet Zandreu's eyes.

The lean faced man smiled. "It's not so much kindness, I'm afraid, as experience."

"Experience?" Rayla eyed Zandreu. He'd had a wife at one point? One who indulged too much?

Zandreu nodded. "That's how I know he won't change unless something else in his life wakes him up to the need to change - and sometimes not even then."

"I've tried." Rayla muttered half into her mug. Not even then. That was where they were, and Rayla was out of ideas, or options. "I've tried talking to him. He makes promises, then he breaks them."

"Yes." Zandreu knew everything there was to know about that. "Would you leave him?"

"And do what? Go where?" Oh that had been on Rayla's mind on more than one occasion, especially after he got rough. But there was nothing to do and nowhere to go. She was stuck in a marriage forced upon her turns earlier, one she never wanted, one she wished she'd never had.

"Do you have no family that could take you and your children?" He thought of the young widow who worked in the Tavern. "Or no work you could do?"

"If I had to work, then I would have to leave my children with someone else." The thought left a sour taste in Rayla's mouth. It was one of the things she enjoyed about her day, being with her children. They were the sunshine that broke through the clouds that covered her life. "I'm the only child of my parents." Who had lived to adulthood anyway. "My father would never allow it. He would be disgraced. And the only work I can do is take care of a home. I've no training in anything else. I have no other options."

"You might be able to find work where accommodation was part of the arrangement - for you and the children. But no matter, if it's your choice to stay."

"Work? Where? I have no useful skills, no one would take me." Rayla shook her head. Oh she had wanted to leave for many a turn, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to turn to. Her female friends were sympathetic, but their husbands wouldn't allow such a thing. She was stuck.

"Would you like me to ask around? See if there's any suitable work?"

"The only suitable work would be that of a drudge. I don't see how that would be much, if any better than the position I'm in now." The life of a drudge wasn't easy and Rayla feared she'd never have any time with her children.

Zandreu nodded. "That's probably true. But keep the possibility in mind and let me know if you get sick of dragging him back home most evenings."

"Sick?" Rayla seemed to age a few turns by merely the mention of the almost daily task she had. "You have no idea, but I've nothing to do about it." With a sigh, the woman pushed herself to her feet. "I should go."

The Tavern Master nodded again, wondering if he was even remotely suited to this side of the debate that had split his family. "I suppose you should. But don't forget about this conversation - and know that you're welcome to stop here for a klah any time. I'm always around and always willing to listen."

"Thank you Tavern Master. I will remember." He had given her a reprieve, a time to escape, even if it had been a very short amount of time. With a sigh, Rayla moved over to her husband to try and rouse him enough so they could go home - even if she didn't want him to.

"Come on, Merlit," Zandreu said, helping the man to his feet but knowing that Rayla would bear the weight of him all the way to their home. "The Tavern's closed for the night. It's time to go."

The man muttered and his eyes fluttered half opened. He tilted his head back and gave Zandreu a stupid grin. "Thank you Tavern Master." Rayla whispered once more as she, along with Zandreu's help, made way to the door.

Last updated on the January 31st 2010

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